The Appointment
by SingerMe
Summary: Matt has an appointment to keep.


**The Appointment**

I don't own these characters. I just like to spend time with them. No other profit to be had.

 **MKMKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

Matt woke with a start, heart pounding. One quick look out of the window and he could see the sun had risen already. He'd apparently slept later than he'd intended or wanted.

Silently cursing himself for his weakness, he wearily pushed the covers from his body and pulled himself into a sitting position. Doc didn't want him out of bed this early and he knew Kitty would be upset with him as well, but it couldn't be helped. He had no choice in the matter. He had an appointment to keep.

Of course, truth be told, he didn't want to go himself. For a moment, he sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand over his unshaven and exhausted features, wishing he could lie back down and pull the covers over his head. But he couldn't.

Pushing himself up to his feet, he stood still for a moment, steadying himself on shaky legs before finally moving forward towards the water closet. On a normal day, he would be well away from this room and it's oversized brass bed. The woman that shared that bed with him would still be sleeping and not wake until long after he'd left.

This was not a normal day.

Pushing that thought away, he almost mechanically performed his morning absolutions and then got himself dressed. Glancing in the mirror atop Kitty's dresser, he saw a man with the world on his shoulders, eyes with no spark and hair with more gray than his years merited. Gripping the edge of the dresser with stiff fingers, he leaned heavily against it for just a moment before pushing himself erect and standing up straight. Flexing his fingers, he reached up, brushed strands of curling hair away from his forehead and grabbed his hat. It was time he got out and about.

Kitty saw him the moment he reached the top the stairs. "Matt!" She rushed up the stairs and to his side. "What are you doing up? You know what Doc told you. You need to rest."

Matt looked at Kitty wordlessly for a moment. She never seemed to age and each day, her blue eyes grew bluer and smile brighter. It was never aging vitality that had first attracted him to her and since then he'd fallen a little more in love with her each day.

"I'm fine, Kitty." He forced his lips in the semblance of a smile. "I'm okay."

"Matt…" She started again to protest.

But Matt shook his head. "Kitty, I'm fine."

His tone and the way he locked eyes with her, forced her to relent. "Alright." She sighed with an irritated shake of her head. "But promise me you'll take it easy today, okay? You're still not completely over that ague. And get yourself some breakfast. Please?"

"I will." He nodded as he impulsively reached out and patted her hand while it lay on his arm. "Don't worry."

"The day I stop worrying about you hasn't come yet." Kitty muttered as they headed downstairs.

For a moment, as they descended the stairs, Matt wanted to grab Kitty and pull her tightly to his breast and kiss her senseless so that he would have the taste of her lips on his and the memory of her smell and feel to carry with him later. But that would tell her too much, so he settled for patting her hand again before releasing her when they reached the bottom of the stairs and heading for the doors.

"See ya later, Kitty." He nodded curtly before exiting the saloon and stepping out onto the boardwalk. For just a second, he started to turn back and take another look at her, perhaps even tell her about his appointment. He kept going forward. Kitty didn't need to know about it until later. She would know later, one way or the other.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he stood still and looked around him at the early morning activities of Dodge City. Ludlow was pushing his squeaky cart full of milk jugs down the street. Hank had opened the stable doors and was probably inside, preparing to feed the animals in his care. The front doors of the mercantile were opened and Matt could see a table had already been placed on the boardwalk in front of the front window, waiting to be filled with fruit or potatoes.

Looking up, he saw the sun climbing steadily and figured it was going to be a hot day. He'd pretty much been out of it for the last couple of days but he was sure they'd been hot as well. The temperature of the day wasn't going to change much, at least not for him.

The lamplighter had already passed through this part of Dodge and doused the streetlights and as he stood he could see other businesses opening their doors, preparing for the day.

Taking a deep breath, Matt realized, he too needed to prepare for this day, though not quite in the same way. He didn't carry a watch but he didn't need one to know what time it was. Seeing the bank clerk, on the other side of the street, walking briskly to the bank, he judged it was pretty close to eight.

Two hours. He let out the air he'd taken in and headed down to the jail. He had an onerous appointment at ten but until then, he had a couple of things he needed to take care of.

The jail was unlocked and seemingly empty. A hot pot of coffee was sitting on the stove and Matt could hear someone banging around in the back. "Festus?" He called as he took his hat off and hung on the peg by the door.

The hill man appeared a moment later, coming from the back where the cells were. "Matthew?" He frowned. "What'cha doing here? Doc said ya was awful sick still."

"Yeah, well, Doc was wrong." Matt answered as he poured himself a cup of the brackish looking coffee and sat down heavily behind his desk. "I'm just fine."

"Uh, huh." Festus answered in a tone that indicated that he didn't believe Matt.

Matt noticed the tone and it rankled. "Look, Festus, why don't you go down to the post office and see if we've got any mail?"

"We didn't have none yesterdee." Festus answered, watching Matt closely. Despite his protests, the lawman still looked awfully green.

"That doesn't mean we won't have any today." Matt snapped. Seeing the look on Festus' face, he dropped his head and sighed. "Sorry, Festus. But seriously, please, just go and see if we've got any mail. Okay?"

Festus, though he couldn't read writing, could sometimes read people and he could tell that Matt wanted to be alone right then. "Alright, Matthew." He turned for the door. "And I'll stop by the store too and pick up some more coffee."

"Thanks, Festus." Matt nodded with as close to a smile as he could muster.

After Festus left, Matt took another deep breath before moving over to the small safe against the wall, bending down and quickly turning the dial on it's front. Once he had it opened, he reached in and extracted an envelope. Though it was old and somewhat tattered, it was important to him now. Opening the envelope, he pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it, quickly scanning the contents. With a thoughtful smile, he quickly folded the paper, placed it back in the envelope and closed the flap. He glanced at Kitty's name on the front and then placed it in his front shirt pocket. He wanted that envelope easy to find if…. When…

Matt got up and paced to the window, looking outside. His mind however wasn't on the view. His mind was centered on an event that had happened two years prior. That event had led to today's appointment.

Matt had just exited the jail and was heading down to the barbershop one morning when he spotted Winston James coming his way, rifle in his hands and an angry expression on his face. He knew the rancher to usually be a mild mannered man and this wasn't like him.

"Hello, Winston." He called as he quickly made his way over to him. "Where you going with that rifle?"

"Get out of my way, Marshal." Winston glared at him as he tried to move past Matt. "I got me a varmit to kill and it's about time I got to it."

"What are you talking about?" Matt asked, moving quickly to block the man's way. "Who are you after?"

"Pete Maines." Winston practically spew the name. "He touch my Becky against her will and I ain't gonna let em get by with it."

"Pete Maines?" Matt questioned. Though the man, who worked for at the freight office, wasn't the best man he knew, Matt couldn't imagine him doing something like that. "Now wait a minute, Winston. Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure." Winston snarled. "My Becky told me so right after she told me she was with child. Now move out of the way Dillon."

But Matt shook his head and started forward to reach for the rifle and pull it from the farmer's hand. "No, now Winston. Let go of the rifle and calm down. You don't want to do this."

Winston, however, had worked himself into such a state that he was no longer capable of listening to reason and the moment Matt touched his rifle, he recoiled and pulled back, his finger on the trigger and the gun aimed at Matt. "Get out of my way, Dillon. I ain't gonna tell ya again."

"No, Winston!" Matt yelled but he could tell it was suddenly too late, Winston had already began to squeeze the trigger. Without even thinking, Matt swiftly pulled his own gun and fired, killing the man just he fired, hitting Matt in the side with a glazing wound.

Matt didn't find out until later that Winston's 15 year old son had seen, but not heard, the conversation between his father and Matt. He also didn't know at the time that Winston had been drunk and that Becky had not been attacked by Pete but had willingly been with him. She'd lied to her pa so she wouldn't get in trouble when he found out she was pregnant.

None of that mattered though.

Winston James was dead and Willie James blamed Matt for his death.

Thinking on it, Matt guessed he always knew that Willie James would call him out someday. Every time the boy even so much as looked in his direction; Matt could feel the hate simmering just below the surface. But he didn't want to believe that. He didn't want to think that one day he would have to face down the kid like that.

So he ignored the boy's occasional taunts and always silent stares and kept his distance if at all possible. He kept telling himself that the eventually Willie James would grow up enough to realize the truth of things. Well, Willie grew alright, but he never saw or at least accepted the truth of what had really happened. He never wanted to. He only wanted to kill Matt Dillon.

So every time he got the got the chance, he would take his father's horse and ride out onto the prairie and practice shooting with the six gun he'd gotten in trade for his father's rifle. He didn't practice every day but he did get very good at pulling his gun and hitting what he aimed at. Festus had caught him once and warned the boy that the tin cans and tree branches he'd been shooting at wouldn't shoot back but that a man would. Willie didn't reply, he merely stared at the deputy and went back to pulling his gun and firing at anything he saw.

Things rocked along that way for two years. Despite his practicing and his obvious hatred of Matt, Willie never made a move towards him and Matt had finally decided that he wouldn't. Matt knew that Willie would never accept his father's responsibility for his own death but he didn't believe he was going to take things any further.

A week and a half ago, Matt came home from Hays with a fever and a headache and a strong desire to go to bed for a week and just stay there. But he did his best to shake it off and do his job.

He noticed Willie was in town on his second day back but he paid that no heed. Willie was no threat and besides, the fever and headache were worse and now accompanied by muscle aches.

By the third day the headache had lessened but he felt weaker and his fever was worse. Still, Matt pushed on. He shook off Kitty's concern, assuring her he was just a little tired but would be fine. By the fourth day he was getting weaker and he knew he'd not be able to put it off any longer.

On the fifth day, after completing his morning rounds, Matt headed to Doc's office. It was close to ten and he had it mind to catch Doc before he left for his noon meal or got busy. He was met about half way there by Willie.

"I'm calling for ya, Marshal." The boy who thought he was a man, stood in Matt's way on the boardwalk, hand hovering near his gun. "It's time to settle things."

Matt shook off his illness for a few moments as he sized the boy up. "Go home, Willie." He told him. "Go back to your ma where you belong."

"I said, I'm calling for ya!" Billy replied angrily. " You owe me, Dillon, and I intend to collect."

"I won't draw on a kid." Matt put as much contempt into his voice as he could as he continued on way. "Now go home." He threw over his shoulder as he passed. He knew he was taking a chance that Willie would shoot him in the back, but he doubted it. Willie had a point to make and back shooting a marshal wouldn't achieve it.

By the time Matt made it up to Doc's office, he was winded and feverish and about to drop. Doc took one look at the lawman and put him to bed. After a dose of something bitter and vile, Matt dropped his head onto the pillow and fell into a troubled sleep of phantom figures and voices that he couldn't make sense of.

He woke two days later, weak yet somewhat clear headed. Kitty was sitting beside him watching him closely. Despite her objections and those of his physician and deputy, Matt pulled himself from bed, got dressed and returned to his duties. He rode out that evening after a thief who'd held up the general store. He returned about midmorning the next day, worse than the first time.

His physical condition had no effect on Willie. He saw Matt ride in and again called him out. Matt ignored him but Willie wasn't going to be put off this time.

"I said draw, Dillon!" He yelled at the extremely ill lawman's back as Matt tied his horse up outside the Long Branch. But when Matt turned to look at him, Willie shrunk back a second time. The man was sick. Anybody could see that and a victory over such as he was no victory.

Seeing that, again, Willie backing down, Matt turned towards the Long Branch, making it almost to the doors before collapsing. The last thing he saw was Willie leaning over him, gripping his shirtfront. And the last thing he heard was Willie's voice. "Three days, Dillon. I'm giving ya three days to meet me by the depot. Meet me at 10, same time ya killed my pa."

Willie was gone by the time someone got to Matt's side and no one but him heard what the boy said. Kitty's rooms being the closest place to bed him down, he was taken up stairs and placed in her bed, there to be nursed by her and worried over by her and Doc. He'd awoken yesterday, groggy, weak and somewhat hungry. He'd wanted to get out of bed and go back to work right then but Kitty and Doc refused to allow him to. Kitty even threatened to have Sam and Festus tie him to the bed should he try to disobey. Not feeling much like fighting an angry red head or two healthy men, Matt complied.

But as he lay in the bed, Willie's voice kept coming back to him. "Three days, Dillon. Three days. Meet me at 10." Matt knew he didn't have to meet Willie. He could just easily lay there in Kitty's bed, being fussed over by her and Doc both for a couple of days more and let Willie's deadline pass. But he'd seen something in Willie's eyes as the boy bent over him. There'd been madness in the boy's eyes. A fever of sorts that wouldn't be cooled unless Matt met him or he found someone else to take his anger out on. Most likely someone close to Matt. Someone like Doc or… Kitty.

Matt turned away from the window, patted his shirt pocket again to ensure the envelope was there and then grabbed his gun belt. It was close to time and he didn't want to hurry to get there. Wedging his hat on his head, Matt took a long look around the jail before opening the door and stepping out into the sunlight.

As he walked towards the depot, he considered his options. They were few and bad. He could refuse to draw on Willie, as he had before but he was fairly certain that this time the boy would pull his gun on him regardless, which meant he would have to kill Willie or be killed. He could try and arrest him, but even if he managed to do that without killing the boy, Willie would just try again when he got out. And Matt didn't really have anything to hold him on anyway.

No, Matt decided, he had no other option than the one he chose. He would face down the angry young man and let the chips fall where they may. But with the way he felt and the anger in the boy's eyes as well as the kid's proficiency with a gun, Matt wasn't so sure he wouldn't be the chip that fell.

He reached the depot at precisely two minutes to ten. Willie was there, waiting. Matt stood stock still across from him and stared at his foe. A boy. Willie, despite his tough talk and his anger and his countless hours of practicing with the gun on his hip, was nothing more than a boy. His face sported peach fuzz where a man would have a beard. His gun belt, cinched impossibly tight around his slim waist looked too big for the boy's hand and mind.

Matt looked at the clock on the side of the depot. One minute left. He thought he should try and talk Willie out of this foolish thing but he knew it'd have no effect. Willie was beyond talk. Matt looked again at the clock. 30 seconds. He moved his hand down near his gun but didn't touch it just yet. 15 seconds. Matt locked eyes with his opponent and saw that Willie was anxious, very anxious. 10 seconds and Willie was already drawing, firing not once or twice but four times. Whether by luck of design, all shots failed to hit their mark.

Matt moved his hand away from his gun and walked boldly up to the kid who'd suddenly turned pale and lowered his gun.

"No… No, Marshal." Willie gasped as he saw Matt coming towards him. "Don't kill me. Please… please, don't…" He cringed in front of Matt bowing his head and closing his eyes, pleading for mercy.

Matt reached in three strides grabbing the gun from Willie and drawing his hand back, knocking the boy on his rear in the dirt. "Go home, Willie." Matt told him coldly. "Get your things, tell your mother goodbye and get out of Dodge."

"But I…" Willie swallowed hard. "I ain't got no place to go."

"Find a place." Matt growled. "Just make sure it's not where I can see you. Now go or so help me..."

Willie didn't wait for a second invitation. Getting to his feet, he grabbed his hat and what little he had left of his pride and beat a hasty retreat down to where he'd tethered his horse. Once mounted, he spared no time in disappearing from sight.

Matt took a deep breath and looked around at the curious people who'd heard the shots and had gathered around to watch. "Go on about your business." He ordered with no discernible emotion. "Shows over."

As the spectators began to disperse, Matt looked up to see Kitty standing at the edge of the depot, saying nothing but watching him intently. Matt didn't bother to look around and see if anyone was still watching. He merely tossed Willie's gun aside and opened his arms wide for her to race into them.

"Let's go home, Kitty." He sighed into her hair as she hugged him tightly. "I'm tired."

A week later, Matt was back on his feet and almost completely well. The envelope in his pocket, which he'd managed to keep hidden from Kitty, he placed back in the safe, just as he had many times before after other such appointments.

He'd been fortunate so far and Kitty had never had to read that letter, telling her of his love and devotion to not only his job but her as well and how he was sorry his life had ended in such a way. But he knew that no matter how good he was, there was always a chance that someone would come along who was better. And his appointment with them, would lead to another appointment that every man had to keep at some point in his life.

But not tonight, Matt thought as he walked briskly down to the Long Branch. Tonight, the only appointment he had was with a beautiful red head who made living worth while.

End


End file.
